Advent 1: Hope

Full moon rising through the clouds- November 2021

But God will never forget the needy; the hope of the afflicted will never perish.

Psalm 9:18

Today we lit the Hope candle on the Advent wreath as we marked the beginning of the season of waiting... waiting for the promise of Christ in a dark and needy world. This hope is not wishful thinking but is the assurance that God will fulfill his promises to those who trust in him. 

I worked this weekend in a very busy hospital, with the emergency department bulging and patients receiving treatment in hallway stretchers and chairs. As needy as our patients were, I thought about sick and suffering people around the world who do not have access to free medical care or any medical care at all. Working in rehabilitation is all about giving people hope, encouraging them to regain the function they have lost, and helping them take steps toward independence. I am so grateful for the opportunities I have to serve others in this way. It reminds me in a small way how God has promised to heal and rehabilitate humankind and all creation.

We continue to wait for the day when justice and righteousness will rule bringing peace on earth. Christ came and showed his followers the way to spread hope in the world. When he started his ministry, Luke records that Jesus stood in the synagogue and read from Isaiah 61, fulfilling this prophecy of hope.

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,

because he has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners

and recovery of sight for the blind,

to set the oppressed free,

 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

Isaiah 58 outlines specific ways that we can bring hope and light to a suffering world. 

Free those who are wrongly imprisoned;

lighten the burden of those who work for you.

Let the oppressed go free,

and remove the chains that bind people.

Share your food with the hungry,

and give shelter to the homeless.

Give clothes to those who need them,

and do not hide from relatives who need your help.

“Then your salvation will come like the dawn,

and your wounds will quickly heal.

Your godliness will lead you forward,

and the glory of the Lord will protect you from behind.

I have the song "Peace on Earth" from U2's album "All That You Can't Leave Behind" on my Christmas playlist. It speaks of the hope and yearning we all have for peace, a hope that remains unfulfilled for many. May we find ways to bring hope to others this Christmas season.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him. Romans 13:15

Faith Tested by Fire

I used to spend a weekend a month with my grandmother in Aurora when I was in university. When I was younger, I stayed with her for a week every summer. During those visits, I would go to church with her on Sunday morning. The Aurora United Church was founded as the Aurora Methodist Church in 1818 and the building I attended was built in 1878. My mother was baptized and confirmed there, and was a member of CGIT (Canadian Girls in Training) which had a branch at the church. The church had a clock that chimed every quarter-hour, something I found very comforting. Grandma and I would leave her house, turn left at the corner and walk a block to the church on Sundays. Aunt Joan sang in the choir and there was a magnificent organ. The last time I was in that church was for Grandma's 90th birthday party which was a big family and community celebration. 

Aurora United Church 2014 (source)

Sadly, the historic church was destroyed by fire in 2014. Mom died the year before, and I am glad she did not know about it. The congregation has not rebuilt yet and is sharing space with another church in town. 

Christian churches have been closing at an increasing rate in recent years as congregations age and shrink. Some buildings have been repurposed into theatres, museums, condos and other uses. The large, older buildings are expensive to heat and maintain. The pandemic has hastened the demise of many congregations.

While the Aurora church building was destroyed by fire, the North American Christian church has been burning with scandals, detrimental political involvement, a lack of discipleship with a focus on money and numbers. The historic abuses of indigenous people, women, children, and minorities by the church have also hurt its credibility and witness. In many cases, the church has not kept pace with the rapid social changes of the past generation. Sunday morning at 10AM is not a sacred hour in our society any longer. In some countries, faith is tested by deadly persecution, but in North America, faith is tested by our busyness, abundance, partisan focus, and self-sufficiency.

The church we have attended as a family since 1977 is one that went from a slow to a rapid decline over the past two years. It has been unable to retain the generation that attended Sunday School between 1975-2000. I have not attended an in-person church service since January 2020, almost two years now. This has been a time of personal assessment and growth and my faith remains strong. But the Christian faith is meant to be lived as a community of believers.

Today I left the house, turned left at the corner, and walked a block to a community church. The congregation has remained vibrant and is invested in meeting needs in our neighbourhood. It felt good to worship and take communion with other believers. 

I have bookmarked many tweets from people who are examining their faith and the state of the church of our times. Here is a sample of some of my favourites.

So that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honour at the revelation of Jesus Christ. 1 Peter 1:7

Willard Lewis Kinzie 1919-2018

A few weeks ago I walked along the beautiful six-kilometre waterfront heritage trail in Barrie, Ontario. The trail, around Kempenfelt Bay, was the brainchild of Willard Kinzie, the mayor of Barrie from 1957-1961. Barrie was incorporated in 1959 so Kinzie was the first mayor of the City of Barrie. At the end of the trail, there is a bronze cast of Willard's hand so you can give him a high five. 

Willard Kinzie was the cousin of my husband's father, Clifford Kinzie. They shared a common ancestor, Joseph Kinsie, who was born in 1811 near Quakertown, Bucks County PA. Several Mennonite families came to Waterloo County from Pennsylvania in the early 1800s.

 Joseph's first wife Barbara died at the age of 37, shortly after the birth of her 7th child. My husband's family descended from this union. Joseph remarried and had 5 more children with Magdelena. Willard's grandfather was one of her sons. It is interesting that the surnames Kinzie and Kinsie were used interchangeably within this family.

Willard Kinzie was born in Blair (Cambridge) Ontario in September 1919. My father-in-law, Clifford, was born in August 1918 in a nearby community that is now part of Kitchener. Willard moved to Barrie in 1947 and purchased Lakeview Dairy the same year. He ran the dairy until 1975. 

There are eleven interpretive stations along the trail which tell the history of the area from the last ice age to the present time. This tribute to Willard is at station eight, which is called "People".

Willard Kinzie married Ruth Snider in 1942. She became Ruth Kinzie and she had three children. Many people over the years have told me about her when they realize we share the same name. She died in 2011 after suffering for many years with Alzheimer's disease. 

Willard wanted to live to see 100 years but died in 2018 at the age of 99. He is buried in Cambridge near his birthplace. I never met him, but am sure I would have enjoyed walking the trail with him and listening to his stories.

The waterfront trail was busy at 7 AM with walkers and joggers of all ages. Apparently, the mayor of Barrie will lead a community walk of the trail each year on September 26th,  Willard's birthday. (source) I am sure Willard would be pleased to see the citizens of Barrie continuing to enjoy his fulfilled vision. 

[The genealogical information in this post is from an extensive database at generations.regionofwaterloo.ca  Willard Kinzie's page is at this link and includes an interesting article from The Barrie Examiner, written when he turned 95.]

Early Winter Reading

This was the view from our front door as I left for work this morning. Just like that, winter weather has arrived with our first lake-effect snowfall. If the ground were not so warm, several more centimetres of snow would have accumulated. Instead of riding my bike to the hospital, I got exercise by using the stairs all day. (not very inspiring!) With darkness falling late in the afternoon, evenings are long and perfect for some extra reading. Here are two mini-reviews of books I have recently enjoyed.

John Grisham is one of my favourite authors. I have read all his books except his most recent one, The Judge's List, which I have on hold at the library. I have re-read several of his legal thrillers including The Testament and The Street Lawyer. 

Sooley is a very different story from Grisham's usual courtroom dramas. It tells the story of a teenager from South Sudan, who shows a talent for basketball and is invited to a tournament in the United States. Samuel Sooleymon comes from a village with few modern amenities, but he has a close and loving family. Shortly after he arrives in America, his village is attacked by rebel fighters. His family members who survive the brutal attack make their way on a dangerous journey to a refugee camp in Uganda. Sooley is devasted, but cannot go home. He works hard at his basketball skills and makes a college team, where he becomes a star player. His goal is to get enough money to bring his family to America. The ending was unexpected, and not the way I wanted the story to conclude.

Grisham writes a thought-provoking parable of sorts about growing up in a poor, war-torn country compared to being a teenager in an affluent society. There are risks to the physical and emotional well-being of people in both settings. The story goes back and forth between South Sudan and America and the struggles that Sooley and his family experience in both places. I could not put the book down and read it in one long sitting. 

The book, Damaged, took longer to get through because I did a lot of highlighting and reviewing of chapters. The authors, Dr, Robert Maunder and Dr. Jonathan Hunter describe how people who have had significant childhood adverse experiences are at higher risk of developing chronic illness. The story of a patient named Isaac is told as the authors develop their thesis. Adverse childhood experiences, called ACEs, include physical, emotional and sexual abuse, physical and emotional neglect, and household dysfunction. The latter category includes mental illness, incarceration, substance abuse, domestic violence, and divorce. A score of 4 or more ACEs increases the risk of serious physical, social and emotional problems significantly. It is important to recognize that these are risk factors that are not necessarily predictive of a child's future health. It does not measure resilience, or the presence of another supportive adult, such as a teacher, grandparent or caregiver who provides positive childhood experiences.

The authors encourage primary care physicians, health care workers, and even teachers to assess a person's ACE score using the simple ten-question survey. It is difficult to change learned patterns of behaviour that develop as a way to cope with abuse and neglect. Early recognition and compassionate interventions are important. I cannot do psychoanalysis, but I have started assessing my more challenging patients differently, giving them time to share their stories, rather than controlling the narrative myself. At least 20 percent of children experience abuse in their homes in Canada. Every fifth person on my street, among my coworkers and patients, in a church or school, has experienced or is experiencing an adverse event at home. We need to be aware that there are people in our circle of influence who may need a listening ear, and support in getting the help they need to overcome the effects of trauma.

Hip Arthroplasties, Vaccines and More

It is now three years since I had a hip replacement. I seldom think about it anymore as there is no pain or dysfunction to remind me of a severely damaged joint. I could not lift my right leg in the car and had to park where there was a curb to step down into the driver's seat. I could not lie flat and slept in a supported position on the couch for the last few weeks before surgery. I kept up with my active, full-time job by taking too much anti-inflammatory medication. 

I say this to demonstrate the contrast in my life now. Without a new joint, I would not have gone on a 10 km bike ride this morning. I would not be working at another active hospital job, taking the stairs to my unit on the 6th floor. I would be unable to carry my grandchildren and would undoubtedly be using a cane. 

I was the first patient at our hospital to have a hip replacement as day surgery. My surgeon and I were interviewed for the local TV news three weeks after the operation. Same-day hip replacements are done frequently now. In the earlier days of my career as a physiotherapist, people in their 60's were rarely offered joint replacements, as the parts did not last as long as they do now. Doing a revision of a previous replacement is a more complex procedure. My patients in the 1970s stayed in the hospital for two weeks postoperatively! 

Medical science has progressed at a rapid pace in the past few decades. I am amazed at the complexity of the cardiac surgeries done where I now work. My grandfather and father-in-law would have had significantly longer lives in this decade compared to how their heart disease was treated between 1965 and 1990.

Two days ago I received my third COVID-19 vaccination. It was 282 days since my second dose and I was relieved to have the booster. We still have COVID-positive patients in the hospital, and I have had 2 inadvertent exposures in the past five weeks. I have had multiple COVID swabs done, the last in October this year. A few vaccinated staff and patients have tested positive recently, but they have been largely asymptomatic. The majority of our current patients with severe COVID are unvaccinated, with the odd one being vaccinated but significantly immunosuppressed. 

Our hospital fired 20 staff members this week who refused to be vaccinated. When we are hired, we have to show proof of vaccination for several other diseases. The COVID-19 vaccination will be added to the list of other required immunizations. I have an artificial hip which has greatly improved my quality of life. I don't need to worry about getting tetanus, Hepatitis C, smallpox or polio because of immunizations I have received in the past. I do not seek excessive medical treatment and always ask questions before taking prescriptions or having tests. But there are times when the benefits of treatment outweigh the possible risks.

I respect the fact that people have a personal choice whether or not to accept the COVID vaccine. I cannot respect people who publicly protest vaccinations, who threaten healthcare workers, and those who spread misinformation or disinformation that could cause harm to vulnerable people. Unvaccinated people, who are hospitalized with COVID, generally accept the life-saving medical treatment offered when they develop respiratory failure. Sadly, some of them have died preventable deaths due to fear of the vaccine. I cannot deny that I feel resentful at times, knowing the avoidable cost of treatment that is carried by our socialized health care system.

And yes, I had my annual influenza immunization this month too, the first year I have received the high dose 65 years+ super shot!

The Old Lie: Dulce et Decorum Est...

Dulce et Decorum Est

  By Wilfred Owen

       Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

       Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

       Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,

       And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

       Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

       But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

       Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

       Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

    Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling

    Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,

    But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

    And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—

    Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,

    As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

    In all my dreams before my helpless sight,

    He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.*    (source)

*Latin phrase is from the Roman poet Horace: “It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country.”

Wilfred Owen was a British World War 1 soldier and poet. His poems speak of the horrors of battle and are not sentimental or patriotic. As Canadians, we often recite In Flanders Fields, with its post-battle images of poppies, larks and crosses. But Owen is not afraid to say, as he quotes Horace.

"The old Lie: It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country."

Owen died in action on November 4, 1918, one week before Armistice. He was 25 years old.

Today we commemorate those who died in the world wars of the 20th century. I grew up seeing the personal pain suffered by families who lost loved ones during these wars. When I was in grade 7, students in my homeroom took turns reading a poem of their choice before we recited the Lord's Prayer and sang the national anthem. I remember selecting some poem about the war, and as I read it, our teacher, Mrs. Mummery, began to cry. She did not speak of her loss and we did not ask, but we felt her sorrow. My best friend's father, Laurence Higgins, lost his arm in battle in Italy. He returned to Canada, married, had a family, worked full time, and hid his emotional pain for many years. I am privileged to have known him and his story.

I feel the poppy emblem, which is 100 years old this year, has been romanticized and commercialized. Wars continue around the world, but we seldom feel the effects of them in Canada, our free and safe first-world nation. Injustice abounds, and people in many countries do not enjoy peace and safety. While we remember the dead, we must remember...

  

veterans who fought and suffered physical and emotional scars,

the millions of civilians who have suffered because of war,

the refugees displaced by ongoing conflicts,

      and those suffering in current wars.

John August Swanson was a Mexican-American artist who died earlier this year. His art is colourful and symbolic. I love his work called Psalm 85 which depicts a world that flourishes with justice, peace, truth and kindness.

(Find the words below in this picture)

"Justice and Peace shall kiss, 

Truth shall spring out of the earth. 

Kindness and Truth shall meet, 

Justice shall look down from the heavens."

The Mennonite Central Committee of Ontario designed a peace button a few years ago. Mennonites are pacifists, but many served in the wars in non-combat positions. They continue to work for peace and justice in local communities and around the world. We remember, but we must learn from the sacrifices of the past as we push forward and work for a better world. 

Why I Was a Little Late for Work Today!

Unlike nurses, no one cares if I am a few minutes late for work as I don't relieve anyone who worked an earlier shift. My workday ends 8 hours after I arrive. We switched back to Eastern Standard Time on the weekend and it is lovely going to work in daylight rather than in the dark. The days will continue to shorten for another 6 weeks, so daylight at 7 AM will not be around for long. 

My usual bike route takes me on a trail by a creek that empties into this pond before it changes direction and goes toward the Grand River. The ground and water were misty in the morning light and many birds were active in the water, shrubs and trees. I biked this trail with our daughters many times when they were young, and they called this body of water the Ducks and Geese Pond.

The light at sunrise was so beautiful this morning that I had to stop to admire the scenery. The leaves are falling fast this week but there are still stands of yellow and gold. I met a patient today who has not been out of her apartment since February 2021. The effects of isolation and inactivity had weakened her to the point where she could no longer manage her own care. I am grateful for every day I enjoy nature, knowing that many people do not have the ability to get outdoors on their own.

This is the last kilometre to the hospital and I arrived a couple of minutes later than usual. I generally meet the same dog-walkers, joggers, fitness walkers and cyclists on this trail each morning. We greet each other and continue on our way. I am not alone in enjoying all seasons in this urban park. The paths are not cleared in the winter but until we get snow that stays on the ground, I will continue to ride my bike. 

We have also been admiring the night sky this week as the evenings have been clear and still. 

The waxing crescent moon is in conjunction with several planets this month. This photo was taken two nights ago as the moon and Venus set in the early evening. Tonight, the moon is in conjunction with Saturn. We get lake effect clouds from Lake Huron and clear skies like this happen only a few days a month. I know very little about astronomy, but the app Sky Walk is very helpful in learning where to find planets, and for receiving notifications about celestial events. The next big event is a lunar eclipse in the early hours of November 19, 2021. I am scheduled to work that day but if I get up at 4 AM and the sky is clear, the peak eclipse will be visible. The natural world is never boring!

Four Years Old!

Four years ago I got to hold our tiny, newborn granddaughter for the first time. I do not know where the years have gone!  She is in junior kindergarten now and is a very interesting and imaginative little girl. We love her dearly!

I do not remember my fourth birthday at all. I have a few early memories around that age, mostly fearful moments such as when I was stuck in deep snow in the backyard in Pembroke. The house was so far away and I could not move. Undoubtedly, I was very safe and my mother was watching me from the kitchen window.

January 1959

I have some pictures of my fourth birthday party, which was celebrated with my cousins at our grandmother's house. The menu appears to be sandwiches and celery sticks and an enormous cake. While I don't remember this particular day, I have many fond memories of Grandma's dining room with its round table. My family moved a lot, but Grandma's house was familiar and unchanging. 

I got a new red dress and a box of animal lacing cards. We returned to South Africa a few months later, and the cards went with me. I laced them many, many times until the cards and the box fell apart.

Celebrations do not need to be elaborate to be special. My brother and cousins are having a wonderful time as I prepare to blow out my candles.

My eyes look bigger than my stomach as I wait for Mom to slice my cake. I may not remember all that happened in my early years, but I did internalize the security, safety, love and joy I experienced in my family circle. Sadly, too many children internalize opposite experiences in dysfunctional families. 

Now I am the grandma and as our grandchildren grow up, it is our turn to make them feel part of a loving and accepting family.  

Happy Fourth Birthday, little Miss P!